


Ryan helps Sam celebrate his 36th

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Sam Worthington and Ryan Kwanten [180]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 15:45:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14139240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Sam Worthington/Ryan Kwanten storyline in the BDSM RPS RPGCitadel.





	Ryan helps Sam celebrate his 36th

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Sam Worthington/Ryan Kwanten storyline in the BDSM RPS RPG [Citadel](http://citadel.dreamwidth.org/read).

The ring of the doorbell comes later than Ryan was expecting, and he hastily scraps the strongly-worded letter of complaint he'd been mentally composing. Doesn't anyone respect schedules anymore? "Sam?" he yells down the stairs, after peeking out their bedroom window. "Can you get that?"

"Yeah," Sam calls back although he sighs heavily, reluctantly dragging himself from his spot on the couch, his program paused and his beer set on the coffee table. "Coming," he yells in the direction of the front door, stretching out his back as he goes, the door flung open without bothering to look through the peephole. He squints at the guy on the other side, dressed all in brown, holding a big box, "Joe's Meat" embroidered over his left pec. He grins, his brain automatically dropping into the gutter. "Hey." 

"Hi. Mr... Kwanten?" the deliveryman asks, frowning down at his clipboard. Then he transfers his frown to Sam, wondering why he looks so familiar.

"No. He's upstairs," Sam says. "Can I help you? I can sign for him."

"Yeah, right there." The man hands over both clipboard and pen, hugging the large box tighter under his arm. "And this should really go right into your refrigerator. They're saying it might break a hundred today." He gives Sam a firm nod.

Sam signs where indicated and takes the box from the guy. "Thanks. Have a great day, mate," he says, peering at the label as he closes the door with his foot. "Ryan?" he calls out. "There's a box for you. Guy said to put it in the fridge. You want to come check it out?"

"Oh, really?" Ryan's already waiting at the bottom of the stairs, his arms full with two brightly-wrapped parcels, and a would-be innocent expression on his face. But he's not the actor Sam is, and he's pretty sure it shows. "Actually, I think that's for you," he says, unable to hold back a tiny grin. "Yeah, I'm almost certain."

Sam blinks at the boxes then laughs. "Yeah?" He shakes his head, grinning like crazy, and heads into the kitchen where he deposits the box on the island and tears it open. Inside there's ten pounds of bacon. Fresh raw fucking bacon. His stomach growls. Christ. "You're gonna cook all this for me?"

"Not all at once..." Ryan laughs, and hands Sam the top gift that he's holding. "It goes with this."

Sam opens the present, his grin widening as he sees the book and its title: _101 Things to Do with Bacon_. "Seriously?" He laughs again, already thumbing through it. "This is fucking brilliant." He groans. "Ohh. Bacon Meatballs. Bacon Garlic Mashed Potatoes." Fuck. It's like it was written for him.

"We're going to have fun with that," Ryan agrees, delighted by his lover's response. For now, though, he manages to stuff the insulated box into the refrigerator. "And one more," he says, shutting the fridge door and holding out the last parcel. He's still a tiny bit hesitant on this one... but he's pretty sure Sam will take the gift in the intended spirit.

"More?" Sam grins and kisses Ryan hard on the mouth. "You could have quit with the bacon," he tells him, but he's positively fucking giddy when he tears open the last package. Jesus. They've been kidding about this for months but Ryan's finally gone and done it. Grey heather with short sleeves, the t-shirt itself matches a few others he owns. With the exception of the lettering in red across the front. PROPERTY OF RYAN KWANTEN. He grins at his lover. "Want me to put on?"

Ryan shrugs, his smile a little shy. "If you want to," he says softly, slipping his arms around Sam's waist. "You're the birthday boy. You get whatever you want."

Peeling his Metallica t-shirt over his head, Sam grabs his new present and pulls it on, smoothing it down over his chest. "How's it look?"

"Mmm. Even better than I expected," Ryan murmurs, checking out his lover appreciatively. The shirt is just shy of too tight, soft cotton clinging to every contour of Sam's chest. Ryan traces a finger lightly over the letters of his name. "Gorgeous."

"Yeah?" Sam grins. "You know - it's not enough to just give me the t-shirt," he says, eyes flickering between Ryan's face and his finger.

"No? You think I need to prove it to you as well?" Ryan asks softly, and fuck if that doesn't turn him on in an instant, his blood rushing hot.

"I don't just think," Sam says, pressing back into that finger. "I know it."

Ryan's breath catches with excitement, and he slips one hand up to cup Sam's nape. "I think we need to do this in front of a mirror," he says, nipping at Sam's jaw, "so we can both enjoy the shirt. Come on." He swats Sam's ass, then takes his hand to drag his lover up to their bedroom.

Fuck. Sam's already hard, everything he was doing before that doorbell rang completely forgotten. He lets Ryan pull him upstairs, his eyes locked on his lover's ass, those powerful legs. Christ.

"I want you there," Ryan orders, pointing at their oversized ensuite bathroom. "Leaning over the sink." His grin flashes and he turns away to dig a bottle of lube out of the bedside table, then makes quick work of stripping out of his clothing.

Sam braces himself over the sink, hands flat on the counter, grinning at the t-shirt in the mirror. He doesn't bother shedding his jeans: Ryan didn't give him an order for that - but they're hanging low on his hips, a smooth stretch of skin between the band and the hem of the shirt.

Ryan's still smiling when he steps up behind Sam, circling his arms around his lover's waist. "Remember the first time?" he asks softly, watching Sam's eyes in the mirror. He slips his hand down to press against the ridge of Sam's cock, rubbing him through his jeans.

Sam groans. Fuck. "How could I forget?"

"I never thought we'd end up here..." Ryan stops teasing Sam's cock and unzips his jeans, pushing them down. He pours lube onto his fingers and nudges Sam to lean forward and spread his thighs just a bit more. Two slick fingers press against Sam's hole, rubbing but not penetrating, not yet. Ryan wants to do this right.

"No, but it was already one of the most incredible scenes I'd ever had," Sam says, pressing back, into Ryan's touch. There was already no way he was going to forget this man.

"You drank from me," Ryan murmurs, and licks Sam's throat. "From that moment you owned me, completely." He pushes two long fingers inside Sam's ass. "The rest of it was all just working out the details."

Sam's cock jerks violently with the penetration and he groans, cursing under his breath. Nodding his agreement. "Mine," he whispers.

"Mine," Ryan echoes softly. He twists a third finger inside, working them together to stretch Sam's muscles, then curving to rub against his prostate.

"Fuck," Sam gasps, his cock jerking between his thighs, smearing precome against the counter. It feels so fucking good.

"Are you going to scream for me?" Ryan murmurs, rubbing his swollen cock against Sam's thigh. And he fucks Sam with those three fingers now, short sharp thrusts that rock his lover against the vanity. "Beg for me inside you?"

"Not unless you make me," Sam says, even as his body begs for him to just give in. Christ.

"I can get off anytime I want," Ryan teases, his smile turning wicked. It's a dangerously thin line to walk, but technically he's not required to ask for permission when he's topping Sam. And these moments come so rarely... He drops his other hand down to lock tight in a ring around the base of Sam's cock.

Cock throbbing in Ryan's grip, Sam shakes his head. "You wouldn't," he says, but fuck. He's the one who set down the challenge in the first place.

"Why not?" Ryan twists his wrist and drags his fingertips viciously over Sam's prostate. He nips his lover's throat, not hard enough to mark, but sharply enough for Sam to feel it. "The shirt says I own you."

Sam shudders with pleasure, unable to contain his reaction. Pushes back onto Ryan's fingers, his cock jerking again, restrained from anything more. "Fuck me," he whispers, licking his lips.

God, those words just sound so damn good spilling from Sam's mouth. Ryan grins and pulls his fingers away, then rubs the head of his cock against Sam's hole. "Say please," he whispers, and licks a long line up his lover's throat.

Sam moans as he feels the metal ring of Ryan's piercing glide against his hole, his lover's tongue on his throat. Christ. He could keep resisting but he wants it too fucking badly. "Please..."

_Fuck. Yes._ Ryan swallows a groan and spreads Sam open with his thumbs, then drives inside with one hard push.

Body forced open, Sam shouts, nails scrabbling against the counter as pain and pleasure sear through him. "Jesus fuck," he grits out, pushing back, but Ryan's got him pinned.

Slipping his hands beneath his lover's shirt, Ryan smooths over Sam's back like he's gentling a wild horse. "Shh, baby," he whispers, "let me in." He rocks his hips, biting his lip at how tight it feels.

Fuck. Anyone else calling him baby and that would be the fucking end of things right there, but this is Ryan. Ryan who has Sam completely and utterly wrapped around his finger, no matter what the supposed dynamics of sir and boy might lead others to believe. Sam moans and pushes back again, this time willing his body to open for his lover, his cock spurting precome as it does.

"Oh god, yes." Ryan wraps his arms around his lover in a tight hug and thrusts deeper, gasping at every fraction of ground won. He mumbles something against Sam's throat then locks eyes with his lover in the mirror, and now each drive in is long and hard, demanding pleasure from them both.

It feels incredible, Ryan's piercing rubbing over his prostate with every thrust, and Sam groans, deep in his chest, as his lover's cock fills him again and again. "Harder," he demands, wanting to make sure Ryan doesn't hold back, that he claims Sam as thoroughly as Sam would claim him.

"Yes, Sir," Ryan whispers. He splays one hand over the nape of Sam's neck and gently pushes him forward, pinning his chest against the vanity. Then he pulls out nearly to the head of his prick and slams back in, staring down at the incredible sight of his cock driving into his lover. Fucking _owning_ him. "Fuck, yes!"

Sam yells, holding nothing back as Ryan tears into him, piercing rigidly forcing him open.

It's impossible to maintain any kind of build-up -- so it's a damn good thing Sam doesn't want it. Ryan pounds into him, every slick drag blazing through him until he's hurtling towards the edge at the speed of lightning. "Oh, fuck," he gasps, staring at Sam in the mirror. "Come," he begs, not wanting to spare a hand right now for a reach-around. "Please come!"

Fuck. If he wasn't already so close, the desperation in those words would put him there in an instant. As it is, his orgasm slams into him like a freight train and Sam fucking howls, come sprayed all over the countertop beneath him.

_Holy fuck_. There's no possible way Ryan could hold back, not with Sam shoving him into the storm like that. He shudders against his lover, emptying inside him and struggling simply to breathe. Leaning heavily on Sam and just clinging in the wake of it all.

Eyes clenched shut, Sam shivers, hole grasping hungrily at Ryan's cock, wanting every last drop. He's never felt so fucking claimed before, not even by Ryan. Christ. "Yours," he whispers, turning his head to the side, a certain comfort taken in the weight of his lover's body. "Always."

Ryan sighs, so perfectly content. "Yours," he whispers back, tightening his arms around his lover.


End file.
